


Thy Will Be Done

by BDWC



Series: Bless Me Father, For I Have Sinned [4]
Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: M/M, More than he bargained for, a private ritual, gives a whole new meaning to ceremony and devotion, incense and iron, quarantine madness made me do it, seriously going to hell for this one, seriously i wrote the other parts of this over a year ago does anyone remember them, trigger for blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:55:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24332398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BDWC/pseuds/BDWC
Summary: It took over a year and eight weeks of quarantine but we're back.Father Copia is slowly learning the ropes of his new unholy home but not all is what it seems. Papa Emeritus III is told to make him a true acolyte of the Church. What could possibly go wrong?A surprise blasphemous continuation of "Bless Me Father, For I Have Sinned".
Relationships: Cardinal Copia/Papa Emeritus III
Series: Bless Me Father, For I Have Sinned [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1322489
Comments: 16
Kudos: 75





	Thy Will Be Done

**Author's Note:**

> Quarantine week number ???: writing fanfiction again. 

It only took a matter of days for Father Copia to fall into the routine of this strange new Church. Papa Emeritus III made sure he was introduced to everyone, acolyte and ghoul alike. It only took a matter of days for it to feel as if Copia had always been a member and soon it became impossible to remember the place without his presence in it. 

Citing the intelligence and diligence of the man, Papa was quick to position him for important work. Sister Imperator, the matriarch and Mother Superior of the Clergy, was not easily swayed by pretty words no matter how well Papa gilded them. She watched him placidly from behind her desk in her sparse office as he paced in front of her, annoyance clear in every line of his body. 

"I told you, Emeritus," she said, "I can’t just put a stranger in a post like working with Papa Nihil, even if it’s only as his secretary. Papa Nihil deals with important matters every day. Far too sensitive and secretive for the eyes of one who is not In The Know."

"Oh please!" Papa said, throwing his hands up in frustration. "Nihil is like a billion years old and has like six different kinds of dementia. You aren’t letting him do anything, let alone "important matters"." Papa did sarcastic air quotes and Imperator fixed him with a stony look. "Listen, all I am asking is you let him do the old fool’s filing. Maybe do some work in the library. Shelving, translating, whatever people in the library do."

"And why should I? Why is this one so important?" she asked. 

Papa heaved a sigh. "Lucifer help me, I can’t explain why. He just is. Can you just do this one thing for me? Please?"

Imperator looked at him for a long moment, silent as a grave and far colder. Papa put on his most pleading look, hands clasp in entreaty. 

"Fine." Imperator said, relenting. "The position has been open for some time anyway and I am tired of dealing with it." Papa grinned victoriously. 

"Thank you, Sister. You won’t regret this."

"Oh, I'm sure I won’t. I don’t regret things, as a general rule. I make others regret disappointing me instead." She turned back to her paperwork, Papa dismissed without ceremony. He was nearly out the door before her voice made him stop. 

"He’ll have to be bonded, you know." she said, not looking up. Papa swallowed hard, his stomach twisting into knots. He had been afraid of that. "The first ceremony is an easy one. He won’t feel a thing. Get him ready enough to survive the last one and then come back and talk to me."

"Yes Sister." Papa said quietly, his hand on the doorknob so tight his knuckles had gone white. 

"I hope for your sake he’s strong enough." Sister Imperator said. "I do so hate getting rid of bodies."

***

Papa Emeritus found his fallen priest sitting in the courtyard, enjoying the spring weather. Everything was beginning to come back to life, flowers shaking themselves from their winter slumber and starting to stretch towards the sun as fuzzy, rotund bees lazily bumbled around their petals. The unholy pope paused to take the man in, committing him to memory. The way the sun made his hair glint like freshly shined copper, the freckles strewn across his open, kind face. Something small and brown sat at his feet, chewing on what looked like a bit of walnut. 

"Is that a rat?" Papa asked. Copia yelped, startled at the sudden appearance of his lover behind him. The rat shoved the rest of the nut into its mouth and darted away under the nearby bushes. 

"Don’t scare me like that," Copia said with a small laugh, hand pressed against his heart. "You walk so lightly, I never hear you coming." 

"Never hear me coming, beloved? That’s not what you said last night." Papa purred in his ear as he sat down on the bench next to him. Copia shot him a look, already blushing. Papa delighted in getting that reaction from him. A blush so innocent on a man already well on his way to depravity. 

"That’s not what I meant and you know it." Copia said primly. Papa only grinned more in response. "Anyway, yes, that was a rat. Don’t laugh, but I’m rather fond of them. Back in Italy, in my old life, when I was in Seminary our dorm always had rats. Instead of being frightened or disgusted by them, I decided to befriend them instead. It made everything a little easier. I couldn’t help myself, this one looked so skinny."

"As long as they don’t become a nuisance, do whatever you like." Papa shrugged. "How is your day?" 

Copia smiled. "Good. Aether is still showing me the ropes. I still don’t understand much about the ghouls, I must confess. Are they men? Are they demons? Don’t you think it’s unfair to make them wear such heavy masks without mouths?"

Papa had never given ghoul masks a second thought and looked at Copia strangely. "There have been a few different mask designs over the centuries, I suppose." he said. He looked at his priest and made his voice as calm as it could be. "In fact, I’m glad you asked about the ghouls. It’s a good segue into what your next task here will be."

"I’m ready." Copia nodded, face serious. Papa’s heart constricted painfully. If only you knew, beloved, he thought. 

"To advance in the Clergy there are certain steps and rituals you must complete. The more you complete, the further you can advance. There is knowledge that only those fully bonded to the Church can access. I have asked that you begin to work assisting Papa Nihil in his office and for that we need to get you to the first level bond."

"Of course, that makes sense. What do I have to do? Is it a test?"

Papa paused. "Sort of. Not a paper test. It’s more of a... " he waved a hand around, searching for a word. "A swearing in ceremony. You know, proclaiming your fealty to our dark lord and stuff like that. A little studying to get your infernal Latin up to snuff, a little bloodletting, and you’re done." 

"A little bloodletting?" Copia asked, voice pitched slightly higher at the mere thought. 

"You won’t feel a thing, don’t worry." Papa said, taking his hand and idly tracing his wrist. "It will be fine, I promise."

"Alright," he said, swallowing hard, pulse fluttering like a trapped bird in Papa’s grasp. "I trust you."

Papa pulled him close and kissed him, nauseous at the thought of lying to his beautiful priest but it was for his own good. 

***

"This is so frustrating!" Copia said, throwing down his papers and massaging his temples. Aether looked over at him, a calm eyebrow raised under his mask. They sat in the library together at one of the long wooden study tables, books and papers strewn around them. "This infernal Latin makes no sense. I know Latin, I’m fluent in Latin, but this is all wrong!" he grabbed one of the papers and shoved it at Aether. "Look at this! ' _Per aspera ad inferi_ ' is wrong! It’s grammatically incorrect in Latin!"

"That’s what makes it infernal." Aether said, unbothered by the priest’s outburst. "Look, you don’t have to understand it, you just have to memorize it." 

Copia sighed and slumped back in his chair, an uncharacteristic move for the usually fastidious man. 

"I’m tired, Aether. The ceremony is tomorrow and I’m-" he stopped for a second, looking over at the ghoul. "I’m worried."

"Don’t be worried, Father Copia. What will be will be. I’ll be there, Papa will be there. You’ve got this." 

"I appreciate the vote of confidence. I suppose I’m just tired." He sat up straight again, wincing as he heard his spine pop. 

Aether had grown fond of the priest during their weeks together. He knew Father Copia to be smart, hardworking, thoughtful, and kind. He knew he would get through the ceremony with flying colors. How could Lucifer not want this man in his ranks? He also knew Father Copia had memorized his parts flawlessly and he knew when enough was enough. He stood up without preamble and began to gather all the books to put on the nearby library cart to be re-shelved. 

"What are you doing?" Copia asked, standing as well and gathering his notes, following the ghoul’s lead. 

"You know your parts. Stressing out won’t do you any good. There’s band practice in a little while. Come and sit in on it, take your mind off everything going on, then get a good night’s rest. Best thing for you." he said. 

Copia slipped the last of his papers into their folders and into his bag. He had to admit he was curious now. He knew about the musical aspect of the Clergy. He had spent one fruitless, frustrating afternoon in the hot sun to protest their tour back in Rome. Every so often he would hear the rumble of amps far away somewhere in the labyrinthine building. He had never heard the band for real, though he had always wanted to. 

"I’d love to sit in and watch," he said. "If it wouldn’t be a disturbance."

"Nah, not at all." Aether said as they walked out of the library. "In fact, Papa performs better in front of an audience. We used to use cardboard cut outs we got on sale to give him something to focus on. You haven’t lived until you’ve seen Papa try to serenade a standee of Edward Cullen."

***

Papa Emeritus III stood on the makeshift practice stage, warming up his voice. He had stripped out of his formal suit jacket and wore just his undershirt and his suit trousers. Around him his faithful ghouls tuned instruments, adjusted amps, and noodled around as they waited for practice to begin. Aether was running a little late but it gave Papa the chance to really work his vocal chords before they began, getting them in tip top shape for the work out that was to come. 

The doors to the music room opened and Aether walked in, waving apologetically. He was followed by Father Copia who looked rather dumbfounded at their stage. He looked around the room in awe, eyes wide. 

"Now this is a surprise!" Papa said, hoping off the stage and going to them. 

"I thought he needed a break." Aether said. "You know what tomorrow is and he’s not sleeping. Thought this would be a nice treat."

Papa clapped the bigger ghoul on his shoulder. "Great idea! Get up there, I’ll be with you in a minute." Aether nodded and walked to the stage, greeting his fellow ghouls as he picked up a sleek black guitar. 

"This is amazing!" Copia said, still staring at the set up before him. The walls were covered in uneven blocks of gray foam and equipment filled the room as wires snaked all over the floor. 

"Like it?" Papa asked, pride evident in his voice. 

"I love it!" the priest exclaimed. "I love music. I used to sing in the choir when I was younger. It was such a transformative, powerful feeling. Nothing but you and the music." he looked sheepish for a moment. "I used to think it was proof of God on this earth, the holy feeling singing and music gave me." 

"Trust me, beloved. Satan loves a good song too." he made a grand sweeping gesture to some folding chairs nearby. "Please, take a seat. Enjoy the show." 

"Oh, I will!" Copia said and hurried over to the chairs, selecting the best one. Papa watched him, feeling that odd tightness grow in his chest. He could not love that man more. With a laugh he climbed the stage once again and struck a pose as he grabbed his microphone. 

"Let’s knock his fucking socks off." Papa said to his band and they followed through with gusto. The Earth ghoul behind the drums counted them off and they all launched into their routine as if it was a show in front of thousands instead of just one slightly defiled priest. Papa sang his heart out, preening as he walked the stage. He grinned at Copia as he did suggestive things with his mic stand, watching the priest blush like the girls hanging on the barrier usually did. For his part, Copia acted as if they were in a massive venue as well. He clapped and cheered, unable to stay seated for long. He swayed along with the music, clapping in time to Papa’s evident satisfaction. It was gratifying to see the usually restrained man come alive and lose his inhibitions. 

The ghouls played their hearts out, giving their all. They paced around the stage, going through well rehearsed motions and vignettes. Papa went through his usual speeches in between songs, going so far as to give a filthier than usual introduction to "Monstrance Clock", full of promises of what he was going to do to his priest once they got back to their rooms. 

The final notes of the song hung in the air and began to fade. Copia stood there, transfixed. He had no idea what he thought the band would sound like but that had been beyond his wildest dreams. They were fantastic. Each song a revelation, each note a salvation. Papa leapt down from the stage again and went to him, all post show swagger. Copia grabbed him and kissed him hard, unable to restrain himself. Papa made a shocked noise before grabbing him and kissing him back with equal fervor. 

They came up for air, panting. Papa looked over at the stage and was pleased to see they were alone. The ghouls had quickly made themselves scarce, hurriedly putting instruments on stands, flipping off amps, and leaving out the other set of doors. The room felt electrically charged, as if the energy from the practice ritual still hung heavy in the air. 

"I’m glad you enjoyed it." Papa said between kisses. Copia was already working his pants open, face shamelessly flushed. 

"Enjoyed it? I loved it! I’ve never experienced anything like that before in my entire life. It was… and you were… Satan below, you were stunning." he said, breathless. "I want to…" he paused, his shy nature at war with the searing burn of lust that was quickly consuming him. "I want to show you how much I loved it."

Papa groaned at the very thought and nodded. Copia dropped to his knees with grace born from desire, fingers unbuttoning and unzipping until the unholy pope’s erection sprang free from it’s confines. Papa stared down at his priest with unabashed need. He had been dreaming of seeing the man on his knees before him and this was even better than he could have wished for. The image of Copia before him, looking at him as if nothing else mattered in the world, would stay with him for centuries. 

Copia was no longer thinking, his brain booted away from the controls by sheer wanton desire. He had been wanting to try this with Papa but had been too afraid. Now he set his talented mind to the task before him, remembering all the things Papa had done to him to make him scream. It turned out that Father Copia was a very quick study. 

Without hesitation he began to lick on Papa’s cock, hands stroking what he could not yet reach. Papa moaned, turned on to a ridiculous degree already. His cock jolted in the priest’s hands, Copia making a thoughtful noise as he kept at his ministrations. Soon he was sucking on the head, slowly getting used to Papa’s size. Papa groaned encouragements, his hand finding its way into the soft coppery threads of Copia’s hair. He pulled on it a little, which based on the sounds Copia made was something he very much enjoyed.   
  
This was an act of worship. Copia's entire being focused on Papa's pleasure. He was like a penitent sinner on his knees before a Saint, seeking salvation in flesh. There was no confessional this time to hide them, the thought making Copia bold. This was a new hymn but his body already knew all the words. 

It wasn’t long before Copia was blowing him, pulling him into his mouth as much as he could, hands roaming on every inch that he couldn’t yet take. It was clumsy and unskilled but at that moment it was the best blowjob that Papa had ever had. He cried out in pleasure, head falling back, knees shaking. 

"Satan yes, my beautiful one. My Copia." he moaned. Copia moaned around his cock, trying to copy everything Papa had ever done to him in the weeks they had spent together since his arrival at the Church. 

It wasn’t long before Papa could feel himself start to come undone. "I’m so close, beloved. Your mouth is so good. Oh Lucifer, yes!" he shouted, cumming into the priest’s mouth. Copia did his best to swallow but was overwhelmed. He sat back on his heels, coughing a little, embarrassed. Papa collapsed to his knees before him, his legs quickly turning into noodles. He helped Copia clean up. "I should have warned you sooner." he said. 

"Not at all, I wanted to do that." Copia said, lips swollen and red, hair askew. "Was I good?" 

"Oh, baby, you were incredible." Papa said, pulling him close. "Let’s go back to our rooms and I’ll show you just how incredible I thought you were. I am going to fuck you senseless." They stood together, fixing Papa’s clothes before leaving the music room for the privacy of their bedroom, the trial before them tomorrow forgotten for a brief few hours. 

***

Copia stood before the dais in one of the smaller antechambers in the Church. It looked like a private chapel though to whom it belonged he wasn’t sure. His mind flit this way and that like a hummingbird on speed as he listened to Papa drone on before him in that cursed infernal Latin. He wore his finest robes, biretta perched precisely on his head, grucifix charm across his chest polished within an inch of its life. 

Behind them sat an honor guard of ghouls, watching the proceedings silently. Copia had been relieved to see Aether among their number, the ghoul becoming a friend during the past few weeks. There was also the hunched form of Papa Nihil dozing in his place of honor in an ornate chair behind the altar, oxygen tank ready at his side should he have an attack. 

Papa mixed things as he chanted, deft hands moving over herbs and liquids in crystal bowls, tracing arcane sigils in the air above them. He crushed things together in an ancient looking pestle, measured out liquids of various colors into a golden chalice before him. Every so often Copia was called upon to trace a sigil with him, or chant in response to questions posed to him. 

For his part, Papa was trying to seem calm but beneath that veneer of confidence he was a bundle of nerves. He stirred the mixture in the ritual chalice with a spoon older than several religions and handed the cup to Copia to drink. Copia took it reverently in both hands. The liquid had become dark and smelled faintly of incense and cough medicine. He had been warned it would taste horrible but that he was to swallow it without complaint or fear. Taking a deep breath to prepare, Copia lifted the chalice to his mouth and drank deeply. It tasted much like it smelled, spicy and astringent. His stomach roiled as he swallowed, threatening to force everything back up. Copia focused all his will into keeping the mixture down.

With one final, awful gulp the chalice finally emptied and he handed it back with care to Papa. Emeritus took it somberly, catching Copia’s arm as he did. He held his arm as he began to chant again. Copia tried to focus but the room started to twist and blur around him. He felt as if he was heavily drunk, his mind slowing to a crawl. It took what felt like years for him to realize there had been something in that drink besides some garden herbs. 

Papa watched Copia’s eyes glaze over and become distant as the tincture took hold. Like a lamb to slaughter, Imperatore had always said. Deaden their senses and they would barely feel what came next. He held Copia’s arm, carefully pushing his sleeve back and exposing the tanned skin of his forearm. The priest stood there, watching dumbly as Papa sang over his hand. He didn’t notice one of the ghouls come around to his side, holding out a velvet pillow. He didn’t see Papa pick up the ornate jeweled knife offered to him. Copia watched from what felt like very far away as Papa traced sigils over his arm with the knife, the point of the blade lightly tracing the symbols into his skin. Papa paused for one long, terrible moment, taking a deep breath before plunging the blade into the unsuspecting priest's wrist. 

Blood poured from the wound, hot and fast. Copia gasped, shoved forward against the altar by the ghoul. Papa held his shaking arm tightly over the chalice as it caught the blood offering, filling quickly. Things were added to the chalice again, words chanted, the world fading around the edges of Copia’s vision. The ghoul held him down as Papa wrapped something silken and heavy around the wound. He watched as his blood seeped into the golden grucifix pattern before his head was wrenched up and away. 

The chalice was held to his lips and Copia could not fight against it. He opened his mouth and drank deeply of his own blood, the incense and iron like molten lead in his throat. Someone was chanting, someone was saying his name. He could hear a chorus of voices singing and chanting louder and louder, his ears ringing at the onslaught. Some small, maddeningly calm part of him thought he recognized the chanting as the names of demons shouted over and over, thundering through his fragile body. His vision glowed for a moment as if everything in the chapel had becoming infused with an unholiness he could sense in the marrow of his bones. 

Copia felt himself slipping away, carried on a current of harsh, beautiful voices raised in triumph. His body shuddered hard as everything went blissfully to black and he collapsed onto the altar, eyes open and unseeing as the color drained from his left iris, leaving it perfectly, horrifyingly white. 

**Author's Note:**

> There will be another chapter of this at some point, I promise. 
> 
> Stay safe out there.


End file.
